


Schönheit, die nicht berührt werden kann

by HauntedByShadows



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Age Difference, CEO!Schneider, M/M, Other, Sex Club AU, Sex Worker!Richard, slow burn but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HauntedByShadows/pseuds/HauntedByShadows
Summary: As Richard settles into life as a sex worker, a high-end client takes a particular interest in him
Relationships: Richard Kruspe/Christoph Schneider | Doom, Richard Kruspe/Original Male Characters (implied)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	1. Prinzessin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul seizes the opportunity to tease Richard as his shift comes to an end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU wouldn’t leave my brain so here we goooooo
> 
> Richard and Schneider have a decent age gap in this AU. Schneider is around 35 and looks like his CEO character from the Pussy video, while Richard is in his early twenties and is very ‘Live Aus Berlin’ based (https://gifer.com/en/M50s) 
> 
> Looks/age are only specific for Reesh and Schnei, so picture the other boys however you like!

“Hey Princess, got any love left to spare?” 

“I’ll always have enough love for you, Paulie,” The silver-haired man blew a kiss towards the bartender, who blushed despite his confidence, and swung his leg to straddle a stool. “Be a sweetheart and make me a drink, will you?” 

Paul grinned. “Do you want a shoulder rub while you’re at it?” He flipped a glass onto the counter in front of him, then busied himself making his customer’s regular ‘Manhattan’. In his peripheral, he saw Richard give him the finger and laughed, “Get that sass out of your system before your next client, you need all the tips you can get.” 

“It’s not my personality I get paid for,” Richard shrugged with a smile. He stripped off his sheer vest and settled back to let the sweat cool on his skin. It had been a long night.

Tipping his chin in acknowledgement, Paul hummed, though it was muffled by the dull scrape of glass on lacquered wood. “What time do you get off tonight?” 

“Whenever Lorenz says so, why?” His white eyes shimmered behind the rim of his glass. “You wanna ask me on a date?” 

“I want to know when I can get you home,” Paul snorted, plucking a half-smoked cigarette from his ashtray and lighting it. “I’m fucking exhausted.” 

“Mmm, ja, you have such a hard job hanging out with Oli all day,” Richard giggled, toying with the straw in his drink. “How physically demanding and stressful.”

Rolling his eyes at Richard’s not-so-subtle bicep flex, the smaller man blew smoke in his face and gestured at the main stage. “I’d break my damn neck if I got on that pole. We each play to our strengths, I provide speedy intoxication and you wear ridiculously tight shorts.” 

“Fair, fair.” Richard propped his elbows on the counter and gave his friend an affectionate kiss on the forehead. As much as they teased each other, Paul gave him a much needed escape at work, not to mention a place to sleep at night. He’d taken the younger man under his wing without a moments hesitation and for that, Richard was truly grateful. “So, what’s for dinner tonight?” 

“Something with minimal cleaning up...” Paul trailed off, looking not at Richard but over his right shoulder.  “Leftovers probably, or takeout,” though he flicked his attention back to the other man, it didn’t stay there for long. Richard was on the verge of asking just what was so distracting when Paul nudged his arm, “I think you have a new admirer, Schatz.” 

Never one to shy away from attention, Richard arched an eyebrow and elegantly angled his neck to look behind him, only for his lips to part in shock. 

As Paul had said, he’d never seen the attractive man in the suit before. His dark, wavy hair was pulled back into a topknot, a cool smirk on his lips. Even at a distance, Richard could feel his pointed gaze pricking his skin - the sharpest eyes he’d ever seen freezing him with a shiver. 

Yes, he was most definitely a new patron. Richard wouldn’t forget a face, a presence, like that. 

Flustered, he busied himself with his hair, tousling the unruly silver strands. He looked back up to find Paul waggling his eyebrows at him and scowled, “Shut up, one look doesn’t mean anything.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” Choking on a laugh, Paul held up his hands in defence. “Only, he is older than you, tall, clearly well-off, masculine. Y’know, Exactly your type.” 

Richard rolled his eyes. “How very observant, Paulchen. He’s welcome to stand there staring all night if that’s what he wants. My clients come to me, not the other way around.” 

“I’m aware,” Paul took Richard’s empty glass and smirked. The younger man was visibly fighting the urge to peek back over his shoulder. “He  _ is  _ still looking, you know.” 

Pink faced, Richard gave the clock behind the bar a grateful glance. “Oh, would you look at the time, that’s my ‘official’ break now.” He stretched, slung his vest around his neck and slid to his feet. “Danke für das Getränk, Paulie.” 

Leaning over the bar so he could reach, Paul cupped Richard’s cheek and kissed his button nose. “Come find me when you’re ready to go home. Look after yourself, baby.” 

“Ich werde,” Richard smiled, nuzzling Paul’s palm before he moved away from the bar. If the man continued to stare as he swayed off to the office, he was none the wiser - too preoccupied with his own thoughts to realise. _ ‘Home’ _ , the fuzzy feeling that filled him whenever Paul called it that tingled in his chest - for the first time in his life, he truly felt like he belonged somewhere. 

Upon entering the staff-only area, the head of security, Till, flashed him a warm smile and a wave. He was tall, dark and muscular, an intimidating man that could strike fear in the heart of most of humankind, no doubt. Except for his closest friends. 

Richard beamed at him, kicking off his heels and padding over to his usual resting spot on Till’s lap. Like every other day, the taller man chuckled and wrapped his arms around him, “You’re exhausted, beautiful.” 

Despite waving him off, Richard didn’t bother with a verbal response. There was no point in arguing with Till, he could probably predict a headache four hours before it set in. He preferred having the guard on his good side, not that he really had a bad side in the first place. 

“Sleep here for a while,” Till continued, nudging Richard’s head onto his chest and brushing his fringe from his face. 

Richard hummed in content. “Tempting. Really.” He sighed, retrieved his compact from his bag and flipped it open to clean up his lipstick. “But I can’t be drowsy for my final few clients, Boss would have my head.” 

“He’d do no such thing.” Pinching Richard’s cheek, Till watched him apply various liners and powders in curiosity. “You’ve more than earned your place here.” 

“That can change very quickly. I’ve only been here for a few months,” Richard noted, swivelling his head, pleased with the way his highlighter caught the light. Tossing his makeup back in his bag, he raised his legs and held the soles of his feet, making a misshapen triangle with his body as he stretched his calves. Deciding it would be worth running his whole routine, his final form was a human pretzel - ankles crossed behind his head and arms hooked around his thighs. 

“No matter how many times I see that, I still can’t work out how the hell you do it,” Till gaped at him in a mixture of horror and amusement. 

“An impressive secret, no?” 

“Indeed, but perhaps avoid doing it in front of the guys out there. You remind me of some poor creature that’s been hit by a truck and left mangled in a back alley. Could be bad for business.” 

“What a way you have with words, poets must be green with envy,” Richard sneered, unfurling and landing a playful jab on his friend’s shoulder. “You sure know how to make a boy feel gorgeous, it’s a mystery why you haven’t gotten a partner yet(!)” 

“Enough, scamp,” Till laughed despite himself, trapping Richard with his arms yet again and squeezing him. Accompanied by a squeak that was incredibly masculine, Richard puffed his chest up in an attempt to break free. A fruitless attempt it seemed - he wasn’t weak by any means but couldn’t really compare to the likes of Till.

“Lass mich atmen, Dummkopf,” he lamented finally, tapping out of the tight hold in defeat. Pouting, the sore loser in him made his limbs dangle limply as he tried to ignore the grin on his friend’s face. 

“Er, Princess?...” 

Richard’s head whipped around to the shy figure who’d entered the room. Oli hadn’t spoken much since he’d joined the club, in fact, he was always conveniently busy in the back whenever the dancer was on his break. Though Paul had assured him that his fellow bartender did in fact like him very much but was on the bashful side, Richard couldn’t help but worry his affectionate nature had intimidated the poor man. 

“Someone asked for you. Not by name I mean he described who he was looking for and I said you weren’t available but he was very adamant and I didn’t know what to do I’m sorry for cutting your break short-“ Oli paused for air, about as comfortable as someone with the barrel of a shotgun right between their eyes. “Ich-... Ein Kunde hat Sie speziell angefordert...” 

The corners of Richard’s lips curved into a smile, it may have been a frenzied jumble of words but Oli had  finally  said something to him. “Du musst dich nicht entschuldigen, Oli,” he skipped over to the tall man and, realising his cheek was way out of reach, settled for leaving a kiss on his neck. “Danke, dass Sie gekommen sind, um mich zu holen.”

“Erwähne es nicht,” Oli deflated like a balloon, the wall at his back providing no coverage for his unmissable form. More than a little lost, he fidgeted and backed up towards the open door, “Have a good night, both of you.” 

“Have a good night Oli!” Richard chirped and waved at the bartender’s retreating back. Turning around to face his friend still slumped in his chair, he waved his hand at the door in excitement. “Am I dreaming or did I just make progress with him?” 

“Not dreaming, I do believe that’s the most he’s ever said to you.”

“The first he’s said, more like.” He sighed before stepping back into his shoes and pulling his vest over his head, “I don’t get it, he speaks to everyone else and can barely look me in the eyes.” 

Till cracked a sympathetic smile, “He takes a while to come around, Oliver has known us for years and knows what we’re like. You’re new, young, outgoing. He has a thing for you, maybe.” 

“We’ve interacted twice in four months, maximum,” Richard snorted, then shrugged. “Does Oli even date men?”

It was Till’s turn to shrug. “The man’s an enigma, we probably know as little about him as you do.” 

“Either way, it’s a step in the right direction.” After he bent to peck Till on the cheek, Richard slung his bag over his shoulder, “I best sign off with Mr Grumpy in there. Get home in one piece tonight, for me, no picking fights with strangers m’kay?” 

“Please, I can handle myself,” Till laughed, putting his ankle on the opposite thigh. “Give Landers the usual speil - if he lets anything happen to you, I’ll break his knees.” 

“Paulie knows the drill by now,” Richard cheerfully replied on his way out the door. The mischievous smile returned to his face as he rounded the corner to the adjacent room, his boss had a particularly short temper - a fact that brought endless entertainment to his workday. “Lorenz,” He swung around the doorframe and saluted in greeting.

“ **Herr** Lorenz. We’ve been over this, Kruspe.” Flake didn’t lift his head from his paper work, he  knew  the little shit was grinning like a fool. 

Choosing to ignore the comment, Richard continued, “I’ll be off in the next hour or so, see you tomorrow...  _ Flake _ .” 

“Ja, leider,” muttered Flake, hearing the clicking of Richard’s heels disappearing down the hall. Why he hadn’t fired the boy yet, well... He wouldn’t hear the end of it from his other employees for one. There was no denying Richard worked harder than most either, and he genuinely gave the impression that he loved his job. 

It was a shame he was also an insufferable pain in the ass.

————————————————

Midnight had long since passed by the time Richard returned to the bar. Putting his phone in his pocket, Paul smiled and outstretched his arm. “Home?” 

“God yes,” Richard whined quietly, taking his friend’s hand and lolling against him while they walked. “Everything aches.” 

“I’m afraid that comes with the job, sweetheart. I’ll run you a bath when we get in,” Paul’s unoccupied arm slid around his waist, bracing for the icy wind to come beyond the front doors. Outside, Richard welcomed the fresh air with his face tilted towards the heavens, eyes closed and a sigh escaping him in relief. 

He was Richard Kruspe once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> * Danke für das Getränk, Paulie - Thanks for the drink, Paulie 
> 
> * Ich werde - I will 
> 
> * Lass mich atmen, Dummkopf - Let me breathe, dumbass
> 
> * Ich- ... Ein Kunde hat Sie speziell angefordert... - I-... A customer specifically requested you... 
> 
> * Du musst dich nicht entschuldigen, Oli - You don’t have to apologise, Oli
> 
> * Danke, dass Sie gekommen sind, um mich zu holen - Thank you for coming to get me 
> 
> * Erwähne es nicht - Don’t mention it
> 
> * Ja, leider - Yes, unfortunately


	2. Eis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dero pushes Richard’s limits...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the staff in this fic are characterisations of members from metal bands that I like, purely because I’m too lazy to create OCs 
> 
> I will add these characters to the tags if they have significance to the plot/dialogue 
> 
> This is still a R+ fic first and foremost, it’s not important to know the other bands that appear :)

The steely-eyed man hadn’t returned to the club in twelve days.

Not that Richard had been keeping count or anything. He hadn’t been on the lookout for brown curls and a suit, no siree, and his moodiness after each shift had  absolutely  nothing to do with it. 

He didn’t care. Not in the slightest. 

“You’re moping again, Ri,” Paul clicked his tongue, almost tripping over his roommate’s work bag left discarded in the hall. 

Richard continued to sulk even as his cocoa was set down in front of him and gentle fingers carded through his hair. “Am not.” 

“Lying isn’t one of your many talents.” 

Huffing and burying his head in a pillow, the younger man curled his arms under his chest. “Tired...” he groaned into the fabric, resisting the urge to purr. 

“You’ve been napping all afternoon!” Paul exclaimed, not unkindly. What with working six nights a week, it was no wonder his roommate was shattered and grumpy. “C’mon honey, it’s only a half-shift today. The store room’s all yours when you finish up.” 

As though it pained him immensely, Richard hauled himself into a kneeling position. Regardless of what state he was in, he couldn’t afford to skip a night’s pay. “Fine...” He pursed his lips. 

“Drink your cocoa first, then we’ll head up.” Paul stood with a final pat to Richard’s head, scooped up a sweatshirt from the floor and tossed it over the pouting boy. The hmph he got in response made him smile - whiney Richard he could handle, at least he was somewhat communicative. 

_‘Der Raum’_ didn’t open its doors to the public for another forty minutes, giving the pair plenty of time to gather what they needed and lock up their apartment. Even with Richard dragging his feet, they’d make it there on time.

Paul slid his arm around Richard’s waist and stroked the strip of pale skin peeking out between his hoodie and sweatpants. His brow furrowed, there was something off about the younger man - he’d been in a trance for the past few days. “Normally can’t get you to shut up, huh?” 

“Mmm?” Richard blinked, surprise replacing the haziness clouding his gaze. 

“You’re very quiet,” Paul repeated.  _ ‘Not all there either...’  _

Raising his hand to wipe his nose on his cuff, Richard shrugged. “Ich habe dir nichts zu sagen,” the corner of his mouth quirked cheekily. 

Paul laughed. “Alright, smart-ass, I see how it is,” he grinned and dug his fingers into Richard’s side, making him squirm. 

“Verpiss dich!” Richard yelped, swerving out of reach and taking off down the street for good measure. Giving chase, Paul clutched his bag to his chest, tilting forward as he tried to catch up to his best friend. 

“Reesh, come back!” He yelled between breaths. Their footsteps thundered down the empty pavement, with Paul steadily gaining on Richard till he darted down the alleyway to the side of  _ ‘Der Raum’ _ . 

Damn the dancer and his superhuman stamina. 

Huffing out a laugh, Richard braced himself against the brickwork and watched his friend stagger towards him in amusement. 

“Bastard...” Paul wheezed, fumbling with the keypad on the door before shoving the smirking boy inside. Using the side entrance was easier and surprisingly, considering the dingy alley it backed onto, safer for the more feminine, younger employees like Richard. 

“Gentlemen,” Till tilted his chin in greeting as they tumbled into the staff room, rosy-cheeked and breathless. Offering a smile in return, Richard pulled his jumper over his head in one swift movement and kicked his sneakers beside his locker. 

“Don’t gossip without me,” He waved his fingers and padded behind a curtain into the walk-in cupboard they had dubbed the changing room. Quickly stripping off the rest of his clothes, he set his bag on one of the counters and turned on the mirror light. 

Paul hung his jacket over the back of a chair, rolling up his shirt sleeves as he watched the curtain divider flutter closed. “Hey, Till?”

“Mmm?” The guard slid his phone into his pocket. 

“Do me a favour, keep an eye on Ri for me.” 

Till’s mouth twitched, his head cocking, but Paul cut him off. 

“Long story,” he waved dismissively. “Something’s bothering him, maybe he’s having a rough time with the other dancers. All I know is he’s not been himself recently and he won’t talk to me.”

“Watch him like a hawk. Got it.” Till nodded and rose to his feet. No point pressuring Paul for details if he knew as much as he did, ergo nothing. 

Peeking at the changing room curtain, Paul mouthed a grateful ‘danke’ and called over his shoulder. “Hey Ri, we ain’t got all night!” 

“Einen moment!” Richard yelled back, sweeping his curls away from his face to take one last look in the mirror. 

As usual, his makeup was a blend of black lipstick, silvery highlight and smokey eyeliner, complete with white contact lenses. Latex shorts clung low to the curve of his hips and his black bustier ended just below his ribs, leaving his stomach exposed. It accentuated his full chest, pushing his pectorals together so cleavage spilled over the lacy corset - he ghosted his fingers over the swells with a smirk, Paul teased him so when it came to his chest. 

But he didn’t care, he felt beautiful. 

Richard skipped barefoot back to the main room, deciding stockings would be kinder to his feet than heels. “Voila.” 

Paul eyed him up, a stupid smirk spreading on his face before he coughed a barely audible “nice tits.”

“You’re such a child,” Richard suppressed a giggle, dodged around his two friends and crammed his bag into his locker. 

Till laughed quietly. “Ignore him, Princess, you look nothing short of wonderful. Now, I don’t want to seem like I’m kicking you out but I just got a text from Goi. Said he has a job for you and needs you backstage ASAP.” 

“He does?” Richard clasped his hands behind his back, trying to mask his nerves. 

“Yup,” Till nodded and shot the danced a wink of encouragement. “Chop chop, don’t keep the man waiting.”

With a final quick hug from Paul, Richard hurried down the hall towards the show room. Each step he took heightened his anxiety - Dero intimidated him more than he liked to admit. He was older, taller, vastly experienced, not to mention missing a few screws. The other dancer was nice enough, if a little overwhelming, but the idea of disappointing him wasn’t particularly pleasant. 

Beside the bar, the staff corridor lead to the back of the centre stage. Richard picked up the pace, greeting a few of his colleagues in passing (Corey and Waylon, Jay, Oli) before shouldering his way through the stage doors. “Dero?...” 

“Right here, Kätzchen,” Dero, lounging on a box by the tech booth, beckoned him over with a cigarette dangling from his fingers. 

“Till, uh-“ Richard approached with some hesitation. “Till said you have a job for me?” 

“Indeed! Come, sit sit sit,” the older man shifted over and enthusiastically patted the space beside him. 

Lowering onto the crate, Richard tucked one leg underneath himself and folded his hands in his lap. “So, is this backstage work or?” 

Dero choked on his cigarette. “Backstage work, for you?! Heavens no.” He waved his hand, the liner around his already wide, dark eyes giving him the appearance of a hyperactive raccoon. 

“I figured, I’m new and all. I don’t expect anything glamorous.” The younger man explained, taken aback. 

“Confidence, Kätzchen, I’ve seen you out there. Keeping an eye on the boys here is my job, and that includes you.” Dero smiled and flicked ash on the ground. “We’re scheduled to have a VIP guest in one of the suites tonight, some CEO or whatever, that’s not important. What  is  important is, whoever the fuck he is, he’s loaded - tips of a lifetime, baby. I called you here because I want you to take care of him.”

Richard’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?” He inhaled sharply, blinking at the other dancer in awe. This was some sort of joke. “B-But, I’ve barely seen VIP clients before, let alone touched one. Why me?” 

“There’s a first time for everything, you have to start somewhere. You’re young, pretty, intelligent, what’s not to like?” Dero shrugged. “And, I trust my own judgement.” 

Swallowing, Richard considered his options. Well, option. What could he say, really?

_ ‘Mr Dero, Sir, I really do appreciate that you chose me specifically out of loads of guys for the opportunity of a lifetime... But I’m going to have to decline.’  _

His nose wrinkled at the thought. Sure, he had his reservations but he wasn’t completely insane. “Ja, alright,” Richard smiled weakly. 

Dero grinned at him, “I knew I could count on you.” He cooed, pinching Richard’s cheek with affection. “Go relax, someone will come get you when it’s time. Make me proud, kleines Kätzchen.” 

Richard nodded before he left the room, even as his heart hammered in his chest. 

————————————————

“It won’t be so bad,” Waylon gave the poor boy slumped in front of him his best puppy-eyes, sliding him another shot that he ‘ conveniently forgot’ to add alcohol to. 

Richard moaned and put his head in his hands. “I’m gonna get fucking fired, I don’t know the first thing about important guests...” He whimpered, “Why did I say yes?” 

“Dunno, money I’m guessin’?” Waylon leaned on the countertop, flipping his dishcloth on his shoulder. “Hey, maybe you’ll get a real cutie. That always makes it better.” 

“Like you’d know,” Richard giggled and raised an eyebrow. “You’re not gay, Waylon.” 

“What? Maybe I don’t feel like kissin’ dudes but I can appreciate beauty when I see it. It’s nice havin’ somethin’ pretty to look at while I work.” 

“Adorable, truly.” 

Waylon squirmed away bashfully. He tied his dreads out of his face and side-stepped out of Oli’s way, who was marching in a determined line for the store room. 

“Hi Oli,” Richard greeted, knocking his drink back in one go. “Did Paul teach Lonny how to mix? I can barely taste the booze.” 

Oli shrugged with a shy smile while Waylon turned his back to hide his smirk, then ducked into the back without a word. 

“Two steps forward, one step back...” The dancer murmured, stretching his legs out on either side of the stool. One day he’d have a proper conversation with Oliver. Just not that day.

The evening carried on in a surprisingly mundane manner, one might say peaceful. Richard focused on anything other than his upcoming session, recruiting Waylon as a distraction for the knot in his stomach. Occasionally, he’d catch glimpses of Till, who’d pause his prowling of the halls to shoot him a friendly wave. 

“Hey, P? I think you’re needed now,” Waylon edged his chair closer, continuing to polish a glass and gesturing sneakily away from the bar. “If that guy’s for you, you really got lucky.” 

Finally. The clock on the wall had just passed ten and he’d only been feeling sicker by the minute. Richard spun around slowly and inhaled, eyelashes fluttering in surprise. “Hmm? Oh.”

It was  ** him ** . 

Dero was beside the man too, sweeping his arms in a manner that was very much his own. He met eyes with Richard, flashed his teeth in a grin and beckoned him with two fingers. 

Richard gulped, sliding to his wobbly feet and trying his best not to stare at his apparent client. 

His heart definitely didn’t skip a beat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> * Der Raum - The Room 
> 
> * Ich habe dir nichts zu sagen - I have nothing to say to you 
> 
> * Verpiss dich! - Fuck off! 
> 
> * Danke - Thank you 
> 
> * Einen moment - One moment 
> 
> * Kätzchen - Kitten 
> 
> * Kleines Kätzchen - Little Kitten


End file.
